A jovial soirée for which our comrades have gatheredRelinquished admission and collude in our laughterThey applaud the disfiguring with needless sufferingFrom this mutilation there will be no recovering

An abscinded face we'll replace with your posteriorGaze through a brown-eye as your shit-faced in the mirrorYour visage is your end, the lips a sphincter insteadIn our surgical troupe you're cast as the shit-head

Piercing adipose tissueWith rusted hooks and screwsTo keep the crowd amusedYou'll break a leg or twoWith needle and ink I stainYour skin, with text profaneNo part is left unmaimedThis show's rather insane

We'll knock 'em dead in the operating theatreThe show must gore on in the operating theatre

As the curtain falls on another corpus-plastyChains jangle when the flesh they're sewn in twitchesYou shant miss your cue as your body we abuseIt's not the audience, but you we've left in stitches